Fool, 'tis in vain from wit to wit to roam: Know, sense, like charity, begins at home.

Good sense which only is the gift of Heaven, And though no science, fairly worth the seven.

'Tis use alone that sanctifies expense And splendor borrow all her rays from sense.

What thin partitions sense from thought divide.

Words are like Leaves; and where they most abound,
Much Fruit of Sense beneath is rarely found.

Genius creates, and taste preserves. Taste is the good sense of genius; without taste, genius is only sublime folly.